Tim Skirvin (![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} tskirvin) wrote,@ 2004-07-30 23:27:00 |
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| Entry tags: | belle, eulogy |
Belle Drake
Belle Drake, my friend of nine years, died on Sunday of liver cancer. She
was 30 years old.
That's the short and pointless version. The longer version includes days of me calling everyone to tell them the above information, attending her visitation on Wednesday, and standing up to say a few words at her funeral today. It'd probably also go into a long discussion of how I've felt alternately sad to see her go, and happy to have known her in the first place. Some ranting about religion would probably come up too, because this is the first death of a close non-feline non-family friend in my life.
But I don't want to talk about those things right now. I just want to talk about Belle.
I'd normally start with how I met Belle, except I *didn't* really meet her. She had been involved in local politics before I started college, and had through that met my mother; when I moved into Allen Hall my freshman year, Mom figured that I automatically knew her and left it at that. So when I finally met her several months into my school year, I already knew enough about her to not need an introduction. Eerily, she was the same way, having heard about me from Mom nearly as much as I knew about her. It took until several meetings in to realize that we had never been properly introduced, and that perhaps becoming friends right at the start had been kinda fast - though it never seemed inappropriate. We were just friends right off the bat, like cousins.
We didn't become close friends until the next year, though, when I formally began hanging out with Belle as part of my regular social group. Right from the start, Belle *seemed* unassuming, if friendly, outgoing, and nearly inhumanly tolerant. You could talk to her about anything, and she wouldn't judge - or at least she never seemed to judge anyone around me. Her goals were clear, her words kind, and her demeanor cheerful. She was also clearly eccentric, as could be easily told by her carrying her friend Seal with her everywhere she went - but given my personality, that was just a bonus.
Our primary bond to each other was our social group, the Eva Gang, the kind of group of friends that every college student aspires to join - smart and kind people with varied backgrounds that will stand together for their entire lives just because they like each other. We'd hang out and laugh, gossip, joke with each other about anything and everything. We knew we could always hang out together. And years after college was over and we'd scattered to the winds, we still get together at least once a year to talk and laugh and hang out again...
Belle was, I guess, the spiritial voice of the group, as well as the voice of general wisdom and an equal partner in the silliness and fun. To me, she was also my ride. Two-to-three times a year, we'd hop in a car and drive to Chicago together for some event or another; we'd spend the trips talking and rambling about our lives, before spending the weekend with friends, and finally returning for another few hours of talking on the way home. It was always a pleasure to be with her while we did this, and she was always pleased to have me along.
We bonded over many more things than just the Eva Gang, though. She encouraged me to volunteer at the Etc Coffeehouse, which remains one of my loves and dreams. She went to Vet School with my little brother. She once took me a to a science-fiction convention in Iowa, where I met many of her other close friends and just plain hung out with her in an element that I hardly knew she had. She had friends throughout the technical community in town, thanks to her employment at Wolfram Research. She knew many Allenites that had come before me, in addition to the ones that I alrady knew, and made it a point to introduce us whenever possible...
And perhaps here's where I should mention what really made Belle impressive to me. For years, I have considered myself a very social person; when I think about it, though, Belle puts me to shame. I pride myself on the breadth and depth of my varied friends, the sheer numbers of them that I care about and the varied places they came from; but, though I rarely considered it until recently, she had more breadth and depth. When I attended her social events, there would never be the same groups of people twice - Amasong, Wolfram, Wesley Foundation, Vet School, Eva Gang, various family groups, all of them were her friends and all of them were there for her. I contemplate this, and I am humble...
It's obvious why she had so many friends, though. I have never known someone quite as emotionally strong as Belle. She spoke about her disasters the way that most of us talk about a natural disaster in another countries - it happened, and it sucks, but eventually, what's the point of worrying about it too much? She certainly didn't let it slow her down at all; why should a little thing like cancer stand in the way of something important, like becoming a vet? That's the kind of thing that appeals to others in a friendship - or at least appeals to the kinds of people that she'd want to be friends with. And since she was always willing to return that warmth in kind, the friends were rarely lost...
...an impressive feat, to have so many friends and to truly care about them all.
[...] I should talk about the painful bit, too.
The constant refrain when discussing Belle's life through the years has been "she didn't deserve this!". With Belle, it went well beyond the normal point (*nobody* deserves cancer) and into the patently absurd. How can a person this loving, this friendly, this strong, possibly be the target of a terrible car accident, the loss of her brother, and a seven-year battle with cancer? And to not grow bitter through it all, to continue to fight anyway... Nobody that strong deserves that kind of crap.
When my sister was getting married in November of last year, Belle called me to ask if her father could come too, since the cancer had spread to her liver and she needed someone to drive her... I think I was one of the first to know; and while it wasn't fun telling the bride-to-be that we needed another seat and that one of her best friends was dying, I still did it gladly. I didn't know what else I could do for Belle, but I could organize for her, and make life easier for her amongst her friends. I shared my bed with Belle's father that night, because there were no more hotel rooms; and we were all happy to see her, even as we knew that it was the beginning of the end.
Belle lasted until her thirtieth birthday, when I saw her one last time. She talked with her friends (an entirely new group of friends, I might add), joked with us, brought out Seal, and played the piano for us one last time. I hugged her and her family as she left. She died a week later, at home with her family.
Estimates put 200 people at the visitation on Wednesday, and another 300-400 on Thursdays. The church in Lincoln was full today, for the actual funeral. Hundreds of people came to pay their respects to the wonderful woman that was Belle, and their condolensces to the family for the horrible pain they are feeling.
Belle inspired me. She inspired my friends, my family, and even a few of my enemies. She was one of the strongest people I will ever have the privelege of knowing, and I doubt I will ever forget her. And I continue to be impressed that tears are not flowing down my face as I write these words.
[...]
I already miss you, Belle. I don't know when I will ever stop missing you.
[...]
The family has asked for any donations to be made to the Carle Cancer Ward and to the Wesley Foundation. Accordingly, I plan to make a large group donation within a week or so, half to Carle and half to the Etc Coffeehouse at Wesley; if you'd like to join in this donation, please get in contact with me.
